Where Have You Been?
by FishInTheSea
Summary: I'm awful at summaries. Stan is hiding a certain someone from Kyle, Kyle's suffering from a terminal heart condition, and bad stuff happens. Do your FF thing and Read & Review, won't you? StanXKyleXChristophe Love Triangle!
1. Prologue

I don't know where this came from.

There are cats in my brain, who love torturing Kyle.

Story has nothing to do with the song it's named after, they have no connection at all.

Err...

All characters belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Or is it Trey Stone and Matt Parker?

Enjoy this Prologue!

* * *

My head is leaning against the backseat window of my parent's car; we're driving to the hospital. Nobody's hurt, but, lately I've been really sick, and a few weeks ago, they did some blood work, and they called us in to talk.

I could tell by the look on my mother's face that that couldn't have been a good thing.

We pull into the hospital, and I really just don't care. Both of my parents are edgy, and my mother's twisting a handkerchief in her fingers.

There has to be something wrong with me…

Lately I've just been so weak. I don't want to move, I don't want to talk, I just want to lie in bed and sleep. Everything hurts, and my heart pounds like a drum. It hurts with every beat.

Every once in a while that would happen, but today I'm feeling generally fine.

The doctor calls us into his office, and I sit in one chair, my mother sits on the other, and my dad stands, holding her hand.

"Kyle Broflovski…" The doctor says, reading his chart, then looking up at me. "I, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you have a rare heart condition, something that can't be fixed, I'm afraid."

My mother bursts out into tears, but I just blink.

"'Kay," I say, it can't be that big of a deal. They'll put me on some meds, and I'll live for another 20 years, and everything will be fine.

The doctor stares at me, his eyebrows slightly raised. "…You have about three months to live."

"Oh... Shit." I'm stunned. Three months? This has to be a dream. I'm asleep in the car; we're still on our way to the hospital. When we get there, they'll tell me I have to get some shots, and I'll be fine.

"Sorry, son." The doctor says. My mother grabs my hand tightly, and I realize it can't be a dream. Her grip was crushing my fingers, and it hurt.

Three months. How long is that? 12 weeks. How long is that? 84 days.

I felt my face get pale, and I was looking at my feet. I was never going to graduate High School. I worked so hard to get to this point, and in 84 days, it would all be over.

It seemed like hours in that office, the doctor glancing up at us sympathetically as my mother cried, my father trying to comfort her. I just sit, staring at my shoelaces. I notice one is completely symmetrical. How many times had my shoelace been completely symmetrical, and I not notice?

"Come on, Sheila." My dad rubs her back. "We need to get going. Don't want to take up the doctors' time."

"Here," my doctor writes up a prescription and hands it to me. "This should help a little. Not much, but it won't hurt."

We leave the office, and I'm still in a daze. I look at all the people in the waiting room, and wonder how long they have to live.

It's one thing to know you could die at any time from some kind of accident…but, another thing entirely to be able to mark your day of death on a calendar.

The car ride home is long and awkward. I don't want to talk; my parents are trying to make idle chatter. I just want to think. How will I tell my friends? How will I tell Stan?

Telling Stan is going to be the worst. Not only have we been best friends for life, but, I'm completely and totally in love with him. I'm gay, and I know because every time I look at Stan, I get this funny feeling in my stomach.

I think of him all the time…I love his straight black hair, cut awkwardly, yet it fits him. His eyes are the lightest shade of blue, almost a gray. And he's always smiling.

My heart aches, physically and mentally for him. He has no idea, I've known for years, but I've managed to keep it a secret.

I'll never have him now…there's no way I'll be able to confess my love in three months. Especially since he's straight.

I find I'm crying in the back seat, and my mother turns and looks at me. "Kyle…" She says pitifully before beginning to cry herself.

Finally, we get home, and I go straight to my bedroom. My heart's pounding again, and, it feels a lot worse knowing one day it's going to just stop.

I could be anywhere…I hope it stops in my sleep. That way I won't notice. It would be terrible if I was awake…have it just stop, and there be a moment where I am conscious to the fact that I am going to die in an instant.

I flop onto my bed and quickly doze off into a nap. When I wake up, it's about eleven at night, and I look up at the ceiling. I really want to see Stan. I guess I should tell him soon; he'd be pissed if he found out later.

Pulling on my hat and coat, I don't care if my parents hear me. I know they're not going to scold me for something as trivial as this. I mean, if I were them, I wouldn't, anyway.

I head outside and shiver. South Park was really cold. I never really noticed how it felt like little needles of ice were attacking your face the instant you stepped outside, and how your face got hot.

I am aware of my fingers and toes. I feel every muscle moving my feet. Why, all of a sudden, am I so aware of everything around me?

I notice cracks in sidewalks, I notice light filtering from windows…All of it was so, beautiful, and all of it made me want to cry. By the time I get to Stan's, I realize I must have been, because my face is stiff and icy.

The Marsh's keep their hide-a-key under their hedge. It's a tiny frog, and my frozen fingers fumble with the latch. Finally, I free the key, and step into their warm home. Everyone's asleep, but I knew Stan isn't. He's a night owl, always staying up late.

I climb the stairs quietly, and reach his door. It's slightly ajar, and I see dim light from his bedside lamp through the crack. I'm about to push the door open when I hear a voice that is definitely not Stan. I also hear heavy breathing, and small whimpers. I cover my mouth, I'm not an expert, but, I'm pretty sure Stan is having sex, and by the sound of that unknown voice, with another guy.

I can't believe it. I feel my heart pounding again, and I step back against the opposite wall. Stan is gay, and he's got a boyfriend. I can't jump to conclusions. Maybe they're just friends with benefits. Either way, it hurts to think about.

It doesn't take me long to get out of that house. I can't believe I'm thinking it, but I'm actually glad I'm going to die. Three months couldn't pass fast enough.


	2. Chapter 1

I can't exactly remember what I told him to make him believe me. I'm sure it was some heartfelt story, and I'm sure I probably cried…

But somehow, I had convinced Christophe; Ze Mole, that Kyle was dead, and he should stop looking for him. I don't know what it was that sparked inside me when he showed up at my doorstep a few weeks ago, but I knew I had to have him for myself.

His body was perfect, strong, but not too muscular. His hair was messy, wild, and a brownish color that always reminded me of a dog. His eyes were powerful and intimidating, yet could make me melt with one glance.

I kept him in my room, like a pet. He didn't go to school, and he was great at hiding, so my parents never found him. If Kyle came over, I would just send him to the basement.

Tonight, him and I are having a little more…intimate time together. It's not our first time doing it, but it is our first time while my parents are home. I hate having to keep quiet, it's harder to enjoy. Instead of yelling, I dig my fingers deep into his shoulders…It gets the same message across.

I hear the front door close, and I panic slightly. Did my parents hear? I jump up, and Christophe lights a cigarette. I throw open the window and look outside, and I see Kyle walking down the sidewalk.

"Shit." I grumble, leaning back in.

"What ees eet?" Christophe raises his brow and looks at me expectantly.

"N-nothing."

"Eet 'as to be zomtheeng."

"It's not." I crawl into Christophe's arms, and that's the end of it. I cuddle close and close my eyes. He puts out his cigarette and holds me with those sinewy arms, and within moments, I'm asleep.

School the next day was awful. I only had one class with Kyle, and it was my last. With each tick of the clock, I grew more afraid. Kyle had to have found out I was gay.

All those sleepovers, sleeping in the same bed…Kyle must think I'm disgusting. Sure, I might be a little attracted to Kyle, but not enough to want to rape him in his sleep.

I pull my book out of my locker, and as I close it, I see Kyle walking to our class. I tense up, no use running from it…

I sit next to him, and he doesn't so much as glance at me.

"Hey dude." I say, but he just kind of mumbles back. "….Did you try to…come over last night?"

"…Yeah, but…you sounded busy."

Oh man. This is so damn awkward. "Kyle, I…understand if you're uncomfortable. If you want nothing to do with me, it's fine."

"No, Stan, it's alright." Kyle sighs, grabbing a pencil from his backpack as class began. "Really, I'd hate for something like this to break our friendship."

"Thanks, Kyle." I smile a little, but something looks like it is really troubling him. Is he just saying that to make me happy? Or maybe he is just ill again.

I can't remember when it started, but one day Kyle just started getting sick all of the time. Sometimes it even required a trip to the hospital. He never talked about it, I'm sure he hated the attention. His skin had become paler than it ever was, which is pretty pale, and his eyes looked like he'd seen more anguish than a war vet.

Pathetic, honestly, but no one could ever say it to his face. He looked like one bad comment would be enough to send him over the edge. Maybe if we all ignored whatever it was his problem was, it would go away.

I didn't talk to Kyle for the rest of class, and he didn't talk to me. Normally we'd talk all hour, and get into trouble. I couldn't tell if he didn't want to talk because of last night, or whatever it was that was making him look sicker than usual.

The bell rings, and Kyle grabs my arm. "Stan, I need to talk to you." He says, his voice sounding like really old and thin paper.

"Alright…"

"Not here." He chokes, like the paper has ripped.

"…Your house?" I can't bring Kyle home to mine while Christophe is there. They'll both freak out.

"…No…Why not yours?"

Oh god. Lie, think of a lie. "Shelly's visiting from college. She's got her boyfriend over. It's gross."

"Oh. Alright then. How about the park." Kyle says it…less like a question, and more like a desperate attempt to end the conversation.

"Park sounds fine." I reply, and soon Kyle's gone.

Kyle

I don't want to talk to Stan. Why did I offer? I rush to the bus and put in my headphones, watching him walk to his car. Usually I would get a ride home from him, but I don't think that's going to happen anymore.

I don't want to look at him, I don't want to think about him, but he's always there.

The bus ride takes what feels like an eternity, not even my music makes it seem like it's going any faster. As I finally get off the bus, I decide to not even check in with my parents and just walk to the park.

Stan's already there.

Damn. I have to tell him. He's my best friend, he deserves to know that I'm sick, and I'm not getting better. He's swinging alone on a swing, and doesn't look up until I'm about a foot away.

"Hey. What is it?" He blinks up at me.

"I need to talk to you." I sit down next to him. There's no going back now, he knows something's up.

"I'm listening." He's digging a trench in the dirt with the heel of his shoe.

Fuck. I can't tell him. I just can't. I forgot how to speak. The words 'I'm' and 'dying' are physically impossible to string together right now. "I'm gay too." I say. Damn it, which is worse?

"…Cool." Stan sighs, I can't tell if it's relief or disappointment. I did make…it seem kind of like a big deal, when it's not. I didn't mean to tell him that, I didn't mean to make it sound like a big deal. I don't want anything to be a big deal! I lurch forward, my heart pounding. Each beat is like a scream in my head. "Kyle?" I hear Stan say, and then the clink of chains as he gets up from his swing and sets a hand on my back. "Kyle are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I manage to say, I'm sure my voice sounds like I'm out of breath.

"Do you need to go home?"

My heart slows down, the beats aren't as forceful. "No, I'm fine now." I look up, and see Stan's beautiful blue eyes, concerned for my well-being, and I just want to cry. I wrap my arms around his waist and do just that.

"K-Kyle?" He says in shock, trying to take a step back, nearly pulling me off my swing.

"I don't care if you already have a boyfriend… Stan, I love you…" I can't believe I just said it. I'm shaking, I'm crying, my heart is pounding again…I try to open my eyes, but all I see is black. I panic for a moment before my thoughts fade to black too.

Stan

I can't tell you what just happened. Kyle is on the ground, passed out, and I'm just staring down at him. I want to leave him, but I can't. I check his pulse, it's pounding like a drum…Damn, my pulse isn't even that hard after a particularly rough tennis practice.

"Kyle?" I ask, shaking his shoulders slightly. He's limp, like a doll, and suddenly my own heart starts pounding. What is going on? He said he loved me, which, totally threw me off, let me tell you…and then just…collapsed. "Kyle!" I start to panic, he's not waking up! "Oh god, Kyle…" I pull out my cell and dial 911, holding two fingers to his throat the whole time. His heart is beating extremely irregularly, sometimes even skipping beats.

"Emergency dispatch, how may I help you?" The lady on the other side said in a calming voice.

"My friend just passed out, something's wrong!" I'm frantic. I can feel myself shaking, my best friend is lying in a snowy heap, and all I can do is feel his heart beating. I gave the lady all the information she asked for, even though I was freaking out.

In nearly no time at all, an ambulance arrives, and although I want to ride in the back with Kyle, they tell me to call Kyle's parents and just go home. Like HELL am I going to do that! Well, I call his parents, of course, but…I can't leave Kyle. Not now…

He loves me, he told me so. Maybe Kyle isn't allowed to love? Maybe it's an emotion his heart just can't handle, and that's why he passed out? I run home, and grab the keys to my dad's car.

"Where are you going, Stanley?" My mother is standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

"Kyle…hospital…I'll explain later." I run out the door before she can stop me, and call the Broflovski residence. To my annoyance, Ike answers. "IKE!" I say, hoping my urgency will scare him into handing the phone to his mother.

"What? Stan?" He says calmly and confusedly. "What's going on?"

"Hand the phone to your mom!"

"Tell me!"

"UGH! If I tell you, will you hand the phone to your mom?"

"Yes."

I sigh heavily. "I'm…not entirely sure, but Kyle like….passed out or something." I hear a click, and I realize Ike had passed the phone to his mother immediately after I mentioned Kyle.

"Stanley? What's going on?" Sheila asked, a sense of worry filled her voice.

"Kyle passed out, I called an ambulance, he's at the hospital." I say, driving while talking on the phone is a lot easier when your best friend, and…the boy you love…isn't in the hospital.

"Oh, Stanley, oh goodness. Are you there now with him?"

"I'm on my way."

"We'll be there soon." There was a click, and she was gone.

Kyle loved me. He LOVED me…Christophe never even crossed my mind as I sped down the expressway; my mind was elsewhere, on the redhead who less than an hour ago, had confessed his love to me. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I loved Kyle, and I was curious as to what had just happened.

I reached the hospital, and entered through the emergency doors. There were doctors and nurses everywhere, but it didn't take me long to find Kyle…his shirt torn open, the nurse preparing the defibrillator…and then another nurse approached me, shoving me away, telling me to use the guest entrance.

"FUCK YOU, THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND!" I screamed as the first shock went off. Kyle's body convulsed, but the machine still said 'no heartbeat' through the sound of one steady beep. I felt tears stream down my face, but I didn't exactly realize I was crying. The nurse was still trying to push me away, but I was fighting back. Soon another nurse approached, this time male, and meaning business. I shove against him just as I hear another shock, and one small beep. "I LOVE HIM, I LOVE HIM, LET ME GO!"

I'm sobbing, I'm fighting, I'm trying to block out the sounds and listen at the same time. Kyle is dying, I'm sure. It's going to be one long beep again, soon. But it beeps again….and again…and again… Kyle's heart is working…I collapse onto the floor, and the nurses step away. I can't tell if it's because they pity me, or if they don't care now that Kyle's heart is beating.

I care that Kyle's heart is beating.

I look up, and nurses are pushing him to a room. I follow, and my phone rings. It's Kyle's mom.

"He's okay…" I say.

"Stan, are you alright?" Sheila asked, and I realized I must have sounded awful after that screaming and crying. I wipe my eyes and sniffle.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I follow the nurses into a room, where they secure Kyle and hook up all sorts of machines. "He's in room 214."

"Alright, we'll be up in a moment."

When the Broflovski family says 'a moment,' they MEAN a moment. I barely sat down, and there they were in the doorway.

"Oh Kyle," Sheila cried, seeing the state of her son. His shirt open, pale, limp, almost lifeless except for the shallow breaths that came seemingly whenever they wanted to. His hair was a mess, his hat completely missing, and wires attached to both arms. Ike frowned and kept a few feet away, no doubt scared for his big brother, and Gerald stood with his hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Can you tell us what happened, Stan?" Mr. Broflovski looked up at me, his voice hardly louder than Mrs. Broflovski's cries.

"Well, Kyle and I were at the park, and…we were swinging…and…suddenly, he just…collapsed." I said. I decided it was best to leave out the whole…Kyle-is-gay thing. Sheila would not appreciate it.

"What were you talking about? Something had to have set this off."

"Nothing, just…school…and…relationships, I guess."

"Hmm." Gerald frowned, looking at Kyle with a slightly confused expression on his face.

The room was quiet, save for Sheila's quiet sobs, for a bit until a doctor came in. He seemed to be familiar with the Broflovski's. Was there something else Kyle wanted to tell me at the park?

"Well, this is unfortunate." The doctor frowned, looking at the redhead lying on the hospital bed. "Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski, whatever happened at the park today…can't happen again."

"We've talked with Stan, there doesn't seem to be anything serious that could have triggered this." Gerald replied.

"When Kyle wakes up, you'll need to ask him." The doctor blinked. "No more stress. At all. In fact, you should probably just drop him out of school now. At this rate, he won't even last three weeks." Sheila sobbed loudly, and Gerald rubbed her shoulder.

"What's going on?" I ask, there is definitely something going on. Kyle failed to mention something important.

"Kyle hasn't told you?" Gerald blinked at me, like it was common knowledge.

"No, he hasn't!" I growl slightly.

"Don't get mad, please, especially not at Kyle. Not now." Mrs. Broflovski cried, peeking over her tissue at me. "Ask him when he wakes up…just…don't be mad."

I relax and sigh heavily. Something's wrong with Kyle's heart, something he's known about. How could I have been Kyle's best friend and not know that he was both gay and had deathly heart problems?

I get up and walk out of the room, the family following me with their eyes nervously. As soon as I'm out, I check my phone, and am annoyed to see three texts and a missed call from Christophe.

I don't even check the texts, I just call. "What do you want?"

"Where are vous?"

"Nowhere. I'll be home…later."

"Stanley?"

"What?"

"Ees there anyzing vous would like to tell moi?"

"N-no," I hesitated. He didn't sound very happy.

"…"

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" I closed my phone and walked back into the room. Kyle's eyes were open, and his mother was holding his hand tight.

"Hey…" I say, walking up to the other side of his bed. He looks at me, then looks away.

"I'm sorry, Stan."

"Don't…don't worry about it." I frown, not sure what exactly he's apologizing for. "For what?"

"For dying." He says, tears rolling down his cheeks. Kyle was the least melodramatic person I've ever met, so the statement surprised me. It had to be true.

"Wha-"

"I…I have three months…max…to live."

Sheila shudders and sobs, turning and burying her face into her husband's shoulder.

"…Kyle…no, you'll get through this…"

"Stan," Kyle frowns, looking up at me. "Do you think today was just a drill? Something I just do for fun?"

"N-no, but…Kyle…"

"Can we be alone? Please? Mom, dad, Ike?" Kyle turned to his family, who nodded and left the room. Kyle grabbed the front of my shirt and tugged gently, he was so weak…but I got the message, and leaned down. He tilted his face, and caught my lips in his.

I blinked, shocked. Kyle was kissing me…I wondered if this wasn't some sick, twisted nightmare. I finally get Kyle, and he's going to be taken away from me.

"D-Don't, Kyle, I don't want this to happen again…" I pull away, although I didn't really want to.

"It won't. I was scared you didn't love me before. I…I heard you screaming in the emergency room. I know you love me too, now."

"…W-what? H-how?" I blink. "Y-your heart wasn't beating, you were passed out…!"

"I don't know. I heard you. Nothing else…just your screams." He closes his eyes, he's fighting to catch his breath. I'm worried something might be wrong, but then all becomes normal, and I realize he's sleeping.

With a sigh, I let the Broflovski's back in, and decide it's time for me to go home.


End file.
